SAN DIEGO -- Rocco Mediate paced in the garage that serves as the scorer's tent for the U.S. Open. For a guy with the name of a mechanic, and the 158th-ranked golfer in the world, this seemed like a good place to wait on his fate. No air-conditioned, oak-paneled room in a stuffy clubhouse filled with golf paintings, plaques and bad sculpture for this blue-collar golfer.

No, this was the perfect place to wait for Tiger Woods' birdie attempt to tie Mediate on the nearby 18th green: There was a television monitor, lots of shade and a refrigerator filled with water and sports drinks.

From here, Mediate could walk triumphantly to the trophy presentation -- across a plywood bridge, through a tunnel carved into the jam-packed grandstands and into the California twilight bathing the final green -- if Woods missed. Or he could hop into a golf cart for a ride to the media tent, one of the chatty guy's favorite places, if Woods sank the putt.

Here, in the garage, Mediate was surrounded by the love of adoring (and slightly buzzed) fans, who waved and blew kisses from the balcony above. But it was a perfect spot to wait for one more reason:

A defibrillator hung on the wall next to him.

But while 50,000 hearts at Torrey Pines -- and millions more on sofas across the world -- skipped a beat when Woods' 12-foot putt on a bumpy green somehow stumbled in the side door to force today's 18-hole playoff, Mediate didn't flinch. Instead, the PGA Tour's No. 1-ranked wisecracker turned to those around him and shrugged.

"I knew he'd make it," he said. "He's Tiger Woods."

Both players finished at 1 under par. Woods shot a final-round 73 and almost blew a major championship for the first time when he had held the lead going into the final round. His 13-for-13 record remains unblemished, at least for now. Mediate, making clutch putts, fired an even-par 71.

Maybe it was meant to be: Woods overcame two months of rust and knee surgery with lousy shot, grimace, incredible shot, grimace, lousy shot, grimace, incredible shot, grimace. And Mediate, the underdog, played steadily from fairway to green as he carried the banner for qualifiers and lesser-knowns, like him, who earn a spot in the national championship, dream of winning, but never come close.

The stroke-play playoff matched the guy with a body shaped like a martini glass against the guy who once threw a shadow on 250 pounds and suffered a ruptured disk 14 years ago. It's the superstar who was winning majors as a kid vs. the 45-year-old journeyman trying to become the oldest golfer to win a U.S. Open. It's 13 major championships vs. none. It's 64 PGA Tour victories vs. five.

"Oh, my God, I get to play for the national championship against the best player on earth, that maybe has ever played," Mediate said. "How much more could you ask for? But I have nothing left right now. I'm toast.

"This was the most amazing day of golf I've ever experienced. Tomorrow is going to be pretty amazing, too. I've never been there like that before. And I just found out what it's all about. The thing that's most amazing is the man I'm going to play has won 13 of these. I gave all of what I had, and I knew he'd make that putt."

The rest of us? Not so sure.

Yes, he is Tiger Woods. He had fired that ridiculous 30 over the last nine holes on Friday night. And yes, he had those two laughably ridiculous eagles and chip-in birdie on the back nine on Saturday. But it had appeared he had run out of pixie dust. With several chances to put the tournament away, he faltered each time -- especially at the start, when he opened with a double bogey on No. 1 and a bogey on the second hole and blew his one-shot lead.

But Woods fought back into contention, his fate finally resting with a 12-footer after his third shot, from the rough, spun back to hole high on No. 18. After Lee Westwood left his downhill 15-foot birdie putt short -- knocking him out of the playoff -- Woods added another shot to his highlight film.

Minutes earlier, Mediate had two-putted for par on No. 18, and it looked as though it might be enough. Woods and Westwood, both a shot behind, drove into a bunker on each side of the fairway on the 527-yard closing hole and had to lay up. Westwood's putt never had a chance. He shot 73.

But Woods drained his putt, pumped both arms and high-fived caddie Steve Williams as the crowd roared and the bleachers trembled.

Now Woods, unsure if his left knee could make it through 72 holes of a major championship, will find out if 90 are too much. For the first several holes yesterday, he winced and grabbed his knee, and on the second hole, he struggled walking off an elevated tee box.

"It is what it is," Woods said.

Can it hold up for one more round?

"It's going to have to," he said.

And was his knee better yesterday or worse?

"It wasn't better."

What are the doctors saying?

"Don't play golf."

Afterward, when Woods and Mediate spoke, the conversation between Batman and the Joker went like this:

"We have a game tomorrow," Woods said.

"Yeah, I'll see you in the morning," Mediate said. "I'll see you in the morning, big man."